“Please, Come Back.”
“Please, Come Back.”
Alice’s Point of View.
The jarring crash that shattered the tension between Tiberio and me hadn’t come from Silas’s room, as I’d first thought, but from outside the mansion—a violent eruption that shook the foundations of his and sent my heart into a frenzy.
My back was still pressed against the cold hallway wall, my wrists aching from Tiberio’s grip, when the sound of synchronized boots thundered through the corridor.
Fear clawed at my chest, my mind flashing to every mafia novel I’d ever read. This was no random noise—it was war, a brutal clash threatening to engulf us all.
Without thinking, I grabbed Tiberio’s arm, my fingers digging into his sleeve, seeking stability in the chaos.
His warmth, solid and unyielding, anchored me, even as shame burned through me for clinging to the man who held me captive.
“What’s going on?” I whispered, my voice trembling, barely audible over the escalating gunfire that erupted outside, sharp and relentless, punctuating the night.
For the first time since I’d been dragged into this nightmare, Tiberio’s eyes softened, the storm in those brown-blue depths giving way to a flicker of something almost protective.
“Don’t worry, Alice,” he said, his voice low and gentle, a stark contrast to the cruelty I’d come to expect. But beneath the softness simmered a coiled rage, a promise of violence held in check.
“I won’t let anything happen to you.” His words, though they should’ve rung hollow from a monster like him, wrapped around me like a lifeline, dulling my panic for a fleeting moment.
Before I could respond, Reid stormed into the hallway, his lean frame taut with purpose, followed by a squad of Tiberio’s men, their black suits bristling with weapons—pistols, assault rifles, knives catching the dim light.
Their faces were carved from ice, eyes cold and focused, ready to spill blood.
“Reid,” Tiberio barked, his voice snapping back to its commanding edge, “you’re not coming with us. Stay with Alice and Silas.”
Reid nodded stiffly, his gray eyes flicking to me, assessing, before locking onto his boss.
“Yes, Don,” he said, his tone clipped, already positioning himself near Silas’s door, his hand resting on the holster at his hip.
Tiberio’s gaze swept over me, lingering just long enough to make my pulse race, then turned to his armed men.
“Let’s go,” he ordered, his voice a steel blade that brooked no hesitation.
The gunfire outside grew louder—sharp cracks and deep booms that shook the floor beneath me, each one a grim reminder that death was inching closer.
I stood frozen, my heart hammering, watching him turn to leave.
He was my captor, the devil who’d caged me, the source of my torment.
This moment was the perfect chance for any sane prisoner to pray for his end, for a bullet to free me from his grip.
But I wasn’t sane anymore. I didn’t want him to die.
The thought of him not returning, of those stormy eyes gone forever, twisted my chest with an ache I couldn’t name.
Before I could stop myself, I lunged forward, wrapping my arms around him from behind, my cheek pressing against the hard planes of his back.
His scent flooded my senses, grounding me even as I cursed my weakness.
“Please, come back,” I whispered, my voice cracking, raw with a desperation that shamed me.
Tiberio’s muscles tensed under my hold, his body going rigid as if my touch had caught him off guard.
I wondered if I’d crossed a line.
He didn’t move, and for a moment, I braced for his mockery, for him to shove me away.
Slowly, he peeled my hands from his waist and turned to face me, his expression unreadable, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of shock.
I searched for something—warmth, empathy, but his gaze was a blank canvas, hiding whatever he felt.
I expected him to say something emotional, maybe a promise. Something that would match the storm building in my chest.
But of course, he didn’t.
Instead, his lips curved into that arrogant, maddening smirk of his.
“If I die, who’d torment you, Alice?” He asked, raising a brow, his voice dripping with mockery.
My mouth fell open, and I stared at him, disbelief surging through me.
“Are you being—” I started, but he cut me off with a low chuckle, the sound both dark and maddeningly magnetic.
“Whatever this is,” he said, gesturing vaguely at the window, “it’s nothing. Consider me immortal. Nothing will happen.”
The way he spoke, it wasn’t just confidence—it was experience. Like he’d already lived through the worst and didn’t believe anything left could touch him.
He turned to leave, then paused, glancing back at me.
“Be a good girl,” he added, eyes sharp. “And I might just let your offenses slide.”
I swallowed, heat crawling up my neck.
I knew exactly what he meant—stay the hell away from Silas.
It was a command, a threat wrapped in velvet, and God help me, it sparked a heat low in my belly, arousal tangling with my anger.
I hated him for it, hated myself more for feeling it. His gaze lingered, searing, before he turned to Reid, his eyes conveying a silent order.
“Tienila d’occhio,” he said in Italian, his voice low and firm.
(Keep an eye on her. )
Reid nodded, his posture rigid, his gray eyes settling on me with a quiet intensity that made me feel like a caged bird.
Then, without looking at me again, Tiberio disappeared into the dark corridor, his men falling into step behind him, their boots echoing like war drums against the marble floors.
The gunfire kept building, sharp and steady, until it was the only thing I could hear—louder than my own thoughts, louder than the pounding in my chest.
I stood there, my arms wrapped around myself, trembling with fear, anger, and the shameful ache of wanting him to return.
What the hell was happening to me?
Why did his threat leave me wanting more?
And why… why did the idea of losing him feel like a nightmare I wasn’t ready to live through?
Reid’s presence at my side was a cold reminder of Tiberio’s control, his watchful gaze pinning me in place.
The mansion pulsed with danger, the crash outside still ringing in my ears.
Author’s Note 💌
Oh, Alice… hugging the devil before he walks into a gunfight? Bold move, sweetheart. 😈
And Tiberio? That smirk? That “if I die, who’ll torment you” line? Yeah, he’s still the villain we can’t stop drooling over.
Tell me, would you beg him to come back… or pray he doesn’t?
Stick around, loves. The drama’s just getting delicious. 🔥
— With chaos and kisses,
Auteure Angel 😚